


Would That I

by Zebooboo



Series: Wasteland [7]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Slice of Life, i guess, of the tower, uhhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 05:46:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18986488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zebooboo/pseuds/Zebooboo
Summary: If they hadn't been practising knife fighting she would have probably been throwing flaming swords at him. Even if he did cheat a bit. He threw a cool wisp her way and watched as a flicker of flame ate it up. She tilted her head at him, eyes dropping."Not impressed?""You get to cheat only once.""No second chances?""Get better.""Omph, that stings.""Not my problem."





	Would That I

**Author's Note:**

> Uhhh, these things are getting longer without my consent. o_o

The blades clashed against each other, sparks flying as they grinded together. Feros chuckled when Schala pushed back and they stood locked there. She smirked back at him and yanked their locked knives to the side, jumping back on light feet. She had a nice smile, but the smirk pulled at the flexible silicone part of her face unevenly. One side too plumb, the other stretched too thin at the edges around her cheekbone and jaw.

They circled around each other slowly, his feet made no noise, hers still had the faint tap of heavy machinery walking. She'd get around it soon enough. He brushed a cool wisp of Light against her own and she tensed. He took a step forward.

It was more of a grapple than the takedown he usually does. She wasn't some unaware Cabal, patrolling ten metres below him. Still, one knife was cradled against her throat, his other hand struggling to keep her right hand to the ground and his right knee weighing down her left wrist.

She grunted and then huffed, relaxing beneath his weight. Her knives - his old knives - clinked against the floor as she let them go. He grinned down at her and stood up, offering a hand down to her.

"Good try."

"I'll get you."

"Maybe one day."

"Maybe tomorrow."

Feros barked out a laugh. Cayde was right to call her a spitfire. If they hadn't been practising knife fighting she would have probably been throwing flaming swords at him. Even if he did cheat a bit. He threw a cool wisp her way and watched as a flicker of flame ate it up. She tilted her head at him, eyes dropping.

"Not impressed?"

"You get to cheat only once."

"No second chances?"

"Get better."

"Omph, that stings."

"Not my problem."

They bantered cheerfully as Schala picked up her knives and they made their way out of the training room. Their voices carried down the dim corridors, the sun setting behind the Traveler setting everything in a backdrop of light orange. The Tower was uncharacteristically quiet, especially in this less used sector.

Their voices trailed off into silence as they walked towards the Hangar. Feros was called to Felwinter's Peak and he couldn't put it off, not with Shiro dropping an extra line into the message to move his ass. This better not be about him picking up an apprentice or whatever Schala is, he swears he'll throw Shiro down the mountain if he hears anything about this. Cayde has been awfully reserved with his jokes about it and ugh. It's going to be about this, isn't it?

She hardly needed his help. She could call the vastness to her feet, make it roll like thunder in her fingers and her visions had been docile and obedient to her touch when they came. For the most part. There had been a few instances when she woke up howling in the night and each time he jumped off his crappy couch already cloaked in Void, busting open his bedroom door. They watched far too many sunrises together.

Ikora kept tabs on the exo, having meditation sessions and training boots with her, sometimes they had talks about the nature of the Light and the different way Schala molded it. It helped, smoothed out frazzled nerves Feros couldn't with his tea or quiet talks or a small nudge of reassurance here and there.

(He was hardly an expert, but he was trying, even if he wasn't trying enough with Cayde. They hardly saw each other lately, too busy or preoccupied with other things. Feros felt more lonely and disappointed by the day. Mostly disappointed with himself.)

They got to Feros' ship soon enough and the Hunter stalled before transmatting in, hesitating for a moment. Schala stared up quizzically at him. (She was so damn small.)

"I..." He started and trailed off for a moment too long, frowning slightly. He worried about leaving her alone. Not that she couldn't take care of herself, or that she had no safety net in case things got bad. But he wouldn't _be_  there if things got bad and wouldn't be back for _hours_  after it was all over.

She would probably also lop off his head if she could hear him thinking like this. In the end he sighed and drapped his arm around her shoulders for a quick squeeze before donning his helmet.

"Stay safe."

She blinked at him and waved him on, patting at his back before turning around and walking off. Feros rolled his eyes and climbed inside. She'd be fine. Now it was time for him to chase Shiro around the mountain and throw him off the top.

\---

Schala watched the thrusters fire up and the ship took off. After a moment it twisted around and flew out of sight. She sighed and stood there, watching the wilderness stretching below. She sifted on her feet uncomfortably, she wanted to go to a beach, just to sit and listen to the waves. It took away her worries even if it had never touched the whispers.

Now she could push them away herself but it was tiring and she craved a bit of familiarity. A bit of motion. A bit of occupation. Tyr flew up to nestle on her shoulder, chipped shell fitting loosely over her armor. She leaned her face gently against his edges.

She was turning to leave when a spray of sparks rained down just to her left. A quick look made her wince. The damage done to this ship was...extensive. A moment later a chunk of the burnt hull fell off. She approached it curiously, keeping an eye out for any other falling hazards.

Scorched edges, dinged spots, scratched paint and very little to be salvaged. She run a hand over the metal with some thought. She nudged Tyr up and motioned to the hull. Obligingly he made a quick scan over the metal and pulled back with a roll of his peaks.

"Hmm, good quality, as expected. Otherwise the ship might collapse in on itself in hyperspace."

Another piece of the hull fell off and Schala gave the new piece a look over. Cleaner than the first piece, but smaller. She ducked under the ship and pulled the scraps to the side quickly.

"What are you doing...?"

She hummed at her Ghost's prodding. With the pieces stacked to the side she held up a palm for Tyr to sit on. She rotated her hand slowly, checking him all around for a bit.

"Surely you can't be thinking to _make_  me a shell, right?"

"Don't you want one?"

"Well, I do, but I thought we were going to get one from Eververse..."

"But you don't like any of them."

"They feel clunky but I can get used to them!"

"Hmm..."

She trailed off as she looked around for some tools. Her bare hands would get her nowhere.

"Schala?"

Cutting tools, welding tools, something to smoothen out the edges....

"Schalaaa..."

A free workbench would be * _awesome_ * to find as well.

"Schala!"

She spared Tyr a look for his loudness.

"It's not worth it."

"Why not. It's for you."

She picked up her scrap metal and walked off to search along the edges of the Hangar for an empty space she could work in. Tyr was frozen in the air, looking at her with a wide optic. Well, when she put it like that...

\---

The saw clattered in the ground, the sound hidden in the cacophony of the Hangar. Schala wanted to slam her head against the wall. Repeatedly. Instead she rested her forehead on the cool edge of the table and closed her eyes.

Most of her scrap was gone and all she had to show for it were some uneven pyramids. Tyr flipped one over with a corner, it clicked over pitifully. Her fingers stang from burns and small cuts. He cast a small rain of sparkles on them and then flickered away. He stopped trying to dissuade her about an hour ago, when she almost sawed off her left thumb.

Schala huffed irritably and tried not to think. Tried to still the buzz in her head that for once was entirely hers. Sitting here with all the noise wasn't enough. Working with tools and metal wasn't enough. There was...almost not enough. Just barely not enough.

She set her elbows on her knees and brought her palms just shy of each other. Small flames danced between her fingertips. Then they dripped down in purple and faded away. She opened her eyes to watch the Light play across her palms. It was almost meditative. Ikora might say some would call it blasphemous. Schala would just say she like the tingling in her fingers.

She straightened up and moved her hands on the table. A stray bit of fire dropped on a lopsided triangle, reddening its edges almost instantly. Curiously she touched it with her pinkie, pressing down. It folded like clay, none sticking to her hand. She repeated her experiment again and again and again. Light was buzzing in her ears alongside the machinery of the place. It was getting brighter. But not from her.

Schala looked around, carefully setting aside the smoldering and deformed pieces of metal. She felt it, it was close. Who was it? Another Warlock going off on a mission? Maybe a Titan itching to do some patrolling? Her eyes darted here and there but where was the Guardian?

Ah, there. A bit of cloak. A Hunter. But the steps she hears don't match. They were light, but sounded small. Her head tilted in confusion. She stood up and moved around her bench, past a small gathering of Dead Orbit ships, even further down the Hangar. It was almost empty all the way back here.

Then she heard Cayde whispering and she rolled her eyes heavenward.

"Quick, quick, can't let anyone know we're leaving...What do you mean you can't reach the panel? Aurg, you're killing me kid."

He was leaning over the console, setting for take off probably . Schala looked towards his ship and saw...a little girl? Climbing over the ship?

"Cayde...?"

The Vanguard jumped, twisting around like she'd set his cloak on fire. He relaxed minutely when he realised it was only her. His little companion ducked behind a thruster, peeking around at Schala cautiously.

"H-hey there Firefly, didn't see you coming in. What's'u doin'? Tryin' to sneak away? Not the best time in the day for that. Gotta wait for Dead Orbit to send out the next wave, hide in the crowd. But you'd get in trouble with Ikora, I wouldn't recommend that!"

'Firefly', Schala mouthed slowly to herself. What was Cayde even rambling about? She crossed her arms and looked at the Gunslinger. His arms flicked this way and that, expansive gestures and bold shifts on the balls of his feet. She wasn't sure why he wanted to distract her.

"I mean, you'd also need to find a ship. Yours is still floating around that warship. We think. Haven't managed to get a team out. We'll get you a new one, no sweat. Soon. Real soon. Kind of. Sometime in the future. Maybe further into the future."

Her eyes darted back to the girl just in time to see her duck inside the jumpship, tuning out the Vanguard's rambling. Schala shuffled her feet with uncertainty, what was Cayde thinking? Sneaking a child outside of the City walls? Her head swivelled between Cayde and the cockpit where she could barely see a blonde head over the controls.

Her mouth pulled into a frown. What would warrant getting in trouble with Ikora and Zavala? Taking a kid to a dangerous place even?

A moment later Cayde went abruptly quiet, dropping his hands to rest on his hips. He seemed to fold in on himself.

"I'm not gonna let anything happen to Amanda, don't worry."

Schala cast him a doubtful look but relented when faced with his resolute face. Her shoulders fell forward, some of the tenseness bleeding out.

"You'll keep her safe?"

"Safe as can be. Cosmodrome in Old Russia has been picked clean. We're just gonna pop in and out real quick. Round trip's gonna take more time."

Schala nodded slowly. It was true, her patrols around the place had been pretty peaceful, whenever she was sent over. Cayde stepped closer and lopped an arm around her shoulders from the side and leaned in. She had a flash of Feros from earlier and came back to Cayde's throat flashing bright.

"She came to the City a few days ago, her parents died a couple of days out. And she's been poking around the Hangar, kept me company while I was working on my Sparrow. She's had it rough and I uh...wanna give her a little something back."

He looked so awkward saying that. Eyes looking everywhere but her, darting up to check around for any unwelcome snoopers, then back at the ship and the mop of hair visible through the cockpit.

She hummed and looked down. She got it.  
Understood as much as she could when all she ever knew where the Wilds and the City and her Light.

"...Stay safe."

She echoed Feros from earlier and Cayde chuckled next to her ear wings. They twitched back and she crossed her arms, huffing.

"What?"

"You're spending too much time with Fee."

"And?"

He looked at her sideways with eyes crinkled and moved back towards the ship.

"He's a damn worrywart!"

She guffawed as Cayde transmatted inside with a wink and the sound of the engine going off rang in her ears. The ship took a backwards nosedive and quickly disappeared.

She crossed her arms and smiled, which quickly turn into a sigh. Seemed like it was the theme of the day, seeing jumpships take off, while she was stuck in the Tower.

With a shrug she walked back toward her forgotten workbench. Might as well play with whatever scrap was left. In the end she's ended up working with her hands. So much for tools.

\---

It was a different Light getting close that got Schala to look up from the cooling patterns of metal she left on a tray. All her lopsided pyramids where gone and the flames at her palms were starting to burn her.

"I heard the mechanics were terrified of a Warlock camping out in the Hangar. But I did not expect it would be you."

Ikora's tone was light and teasing as she leaned a hip against the table. Schala carefully pushed the tray towards her Vanguard, feeling giddy and on the other hand chastised.

"I'm not trying to scare them."

Ikora laughed.

"It will be a dark day when the mechanics are actually afraid of a Guardian's experiments in here, do not worry."

The Warlock looked over the tray.

"Hmm, very fine lines. What tool did you use?"

Schala held up her singed hands with a shrug and Ikora brow furrowed.

"Bare handed?"

"My flames melted it and I could mold it like clay. I just...rolled it out."

Ikora let out a surprised laugh and took the exo's fingers in her hands, gently pulsing cool Light along the burns. Schala hummed in contentment and closed her eyes. That felt nice. The coolness felt good against both her burns and her scorching Light.

"You never seem to stop surprising me. I hope you never stop."

Hearing this was reassuring and nice and made her feel all fuzzy. Like when Feros brings her tea and huddles stubbornly with her under the blanket in the middle of the night, even if it makes him uncomfortable. Or when Cayde stays on the comms and talks to her even if sometimes she never seems to find the words to speak but doesn't want to feel cut off on a patrol.

Her fingers slipped out of the Warlock's grasp, chilled and raw but no longer stinging. She curled them slowly.

"You will be taken off the Warlock roster."

Schala's eyes snapped up and her jaw fell open in shock.

"Wh, why-"

"You are a Guardian, Schala. Nothing will change that. But you are a Risen more in line with those of the Dark Ages. The newer Guardians will find something to make the situation strained or inappropriate if we leave you as a Warlock."

Ikora's voice was firm and the hands she laid on Schala's shoulders heavy and grounding.

(Why was everyone touching her shoulders today?)

Schala took a deep breath and let it whistle out of her mouth. One breath, two breaths, three, four...

Well. Seems like she was right, back when Tyr still didn't have a name and he had been fretting about her place as a Warlock or a Hunter.

She was Schala before she would be anything else. She laughed a reedy laugh. Ikora's hold lightened and she smiled, shaking her head. That was that it, it seemed.

"By the way have you seen Cayde? I still need his signature for you to be released from being a Warlock. He got off hours ago and I haven't been able to find him."

"Haven't seen him for a couple of days."

"Hmm, I see, tomorrow then. And about our session tomorrow, would you like to move it to my study? I may need to do some extra work and I do have some more advanced material we can research on Light manipulation."

"Of course."

Schala waved Ikora goodbey and stretched out her arms upwards, working out a couple of kinks in her back. After a satisfying click she melted in her chair and giggled. Cayde was in trouble.

\---

It was almost dark when Schala ran out of scrap to play with. The patterns on the tray had cooled off and taken off her table by some mechanics on break to admire and then hanged on some wall on the orher side of the Hangar. It made her throat lights blink erratically in embarrassment for a bit, made everyone else laugh.

The rest where a couple if haphazard attempts at rounded, slotting caps that looked more like busted sheets of metal than her original vision.

She was poking a smooth edge tiredly when a voice spoke loudly behind her.

"And this is Schala, our awesome friend who probably did not snitch on us! And to who I owe drinks. You feeling up for em?"

Schala swivelled in her chair to see Cayde walking towards her with his little shadow from earlier looking at her from his side with a glint in her eyes.

Schala blinked slowly from exhaustion and turned the words over in her head.

"I'm too tired to get up. And Ikora came looking. Found nothing."

"Sounds amazing. C'mon not even one measly drink? I promise I'll send this little rascal home first."

He ruffled the girl's fluffy hair, making her squawk and try to bat away the assaulting fingers. Schala giggled at the sight.

In the end the girl ducked away and walked in front of Schala. She thrust her hand out.

"I'm Amanda Holliday and I'm gonna be a mechanic."

Schala was surprised at the forwardness and then grinned, taking her small hand to shake.

"Schala-2 and at some point I'm going to get some decent sleep. I hope."

They broke off into giggles and Cayde simply huffed.

"Alright, alright. C'mere you, you're going home and you missy, get up, I'll send you to bed as well. You're too cheerful to let loose."

Amanda scowled and Schala pouted. Cayde wavered for a moment then crossed his arms.

"Come on. Let's go."

\---

They dropped off Amanda with promises of checking out cool machinery and tools together soon. Then Cayde put an arm around her ribs to help her walk straight. She was exhausted. Her Light was more akin to smoldering coals than its usual inferno and she was just now noticing.

Her side pressed against Cayde's was warm and toasty and more welcome than she'd like to admit. Like a warm water bottle pressed to cold fingers. Usually it's Feros against her side these days, but he was more like a cool compress on a feverish forehead.

Her eyes flickered shut when they got to Feros' door and she just realised Cayde hadn't spoken since they left Amanda. Another slow blink and apparently Cayde had the keys to Feros' place. Huh.

He guided her towards the bed and kneeled down to tug off her boots. After a moment she got enough coordination to take off her armor and the blades strapped to her thighs.

Her head touched the pillows and warm hands tucked the blankets around her shoulders.

(Everyone was touching her shoulders today.)

She hummed in bliss, she was out before Cayde had walked out of the room, leaving the door half open and dropping on the couch. He stretched out his feet and pulled Feros' old blanket over him.

Just a nap he promised himself. Just a bit before he had to switch with Zavala. Just to make sure Schala's Light was playing nice and not going to be nuisance to her.

He was still out when the front door opened again. Feros padding in on bare feet. He dumped his boots by the door, shedding weapons and armor as he went.

He checked in on Schala curled up under the covers, then moved to the small living room with Cayde splayed on the couch, tangled in cushions, blanket and cloak, a leg and an arm hanging over the edge. He felt worry lift from his shoulders a bit, small smile tagging at his mouthplates. This was nice to come back to.

He walked to the kitchen and put on the kettle to make coffee. Cayde was already late, might as well prepare him some coffee and then kick him off the couch so Feros could sleep.

Feros chuckles. Then remembers Shiro slipping as he was being chased by Feros and the wolves and landing face first and butt in the air in a particularly muddy patch of meltdown and started giggling over the coffee pot.

This was nice.

**Author's Note:**

> come shout at me on twitter? @zebooboo


End file.
